


Perks and Drawbacks

by kereia



Category: Men's Football RPF, Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 10:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kereia/pseuds/kereia
Summary: Fuchs has a secret, and Felix is about to find out what it is.





	Perks and Drawbacks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raumdeuter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raumdeuter/gifts).



Fuchs was a businessman.

Sure, most of those businesses were of the shady variety, but that was beside the point.

He was a businessman, and he was successful, and that's what mattered. In the circles in which he moved, underhand dealings and backroom negotiations were as commonplace as the post-war prefab buildings of Marzahn he'd left behind when he'd turned fourteen, and once people knew him by reputation, where he'd grown up, and the things he'd done to earn the start-up capital for his first nightclub became irrelevant.

No one cared where the money came from, only that he had it.

However, just because Fuchs was a businessman didn't mean that he did know how to enjoy the occasional perk of that business, such as rubbing elbows (and other body parts) with people whose names and faces were more commonly seen on glossy magazines than out in the streets.

In fact, as he pulled his current... friend? conquest? fuck buddy? – best not to label it – closer on the couch in his office, business was the last thing on his mind.

To give credit where credit was due, Lewy was as talented with his tongue inside Fuchs's mouth as he was with his feet on the football field.

Which made it only more irritating, when a knock on the door interrupted them.

Threading his hands into Lewy's short hair, Fuchs ignored the first knock, determined to enjoy himself as long as possible.

By the third one, he wrenched his mouth away with an annoyed groan.

Lewy drew back and crossed his legs to hide his obvious arousal. Feeling a little smug at seeing that, Fuchs didn't bother hiding the bulge in his own pants.

"What?" he finally barked, when a fourth knock rattled the door.

Expression studiously neutral, one of his bouncer's entered, the pounding beat of club music flooding the room alongside him.

"What is it?" Fuchs asked impatiently.

"Felix is here."

Throwing his head against the back of the couch, Fuchs briefly closed his eyes. His mouth turned down. Of course. He'd forgotten that he'd told Felix to come around.

"Wait ten minutes before you let him in."

The man nodded. "Sure thing, boss." The door closed behind him, the office once more falling into silence.

"I'm sorry, but we'll have to cut this short today," Fuchs said with genuine regret. He'd been looking forward to an evening of debauchery.

Lewy put his phone back onto the coffee table and reached for his jacket. "I won't be able to see you tomorrow. We have a curfew, day before the cup final."

Fuchs let his eyes wander along Lewy's trim body. "No chance of you sneaking out for a little fun?"

Lewy grabbed Fuchs' hair and forced his head back. His hold was hard enough that Fuchs could feel the sting, but he liked that. He enjoyed the hot, hard kiss with which Lewy claimed his mouth even more.

"Not worth the risk," he said when he straightened.

Fuchs scoffed. "What would they do? Take you out of the lineup?"

"Not worth the risk of being seen by the paps," Lewy clarified.

"Fuck them," Fuchs said. He hated paparazzi with a vengeance. It was one of the few drawbacks of being in his line of business. Gaining enough money and a reputation to attract famous names also meant gaining the unwelcome attention that followed in their wake. The tradeoff wasn't always worth it.

Lewy snorted as he released Fuchs's hair. "Nah, I'd rather fuck you, but that'll have to wait until you're back in Munich." He slipped into his jacket and zipped it up. "You gonna be at the game?"

"Sitting right next to Hoeneß."

Lewy snorted. "Have fun then. He'll talk your ear off if you let him."

Fuchs shrugged. Chatty VIPs were the least of his problems.

Rising from the couch, he took hold of Lewy by the lapels of his jacket and drew him in for one last kiss. It quickly became heated. Lewy's tongue darted into his mouth, and Fuchs felt a familiar tingle shiver down his spine when the door to his office suddenly opened.

"...fucking bathroom somewhere in his fucking, shiny, new club," a familiar voice babbled before it broke off abruptly.

Fuchs and Lewy sprang apart.

In the doorway, Felix Brenner gawked at them.

"The sign on the door clearly says 'Manager's Office', not 'Men's Room', Felix," Fuchs said mildly.

"...nghn dark," Felix mumbled, his eyes wide as saucers. He looked faintly ill.

Beside Fuchs, Lewy sighed. "You'll take care of this?" he asked while he collected his phone and shoved it into his back pocket. Lewy didn't need to spell out what he meant. Fuchs heard the words – half question, half demand – all the same. _You'll make sure he won't talk?_

He nodded. "Don't worry about it."

When Lewy had left through a side door, Fuchs turned back to Felix who was still standing on the same spot as if he'd struck roots inside the carpet.

"Please close the door."

As if in slow motion, Felix gaze went from Fuchs to his hand which was still lingering on the doorknob. A shudder went through him, but he seemed to come back to his senses. At least, he moved with his usual fidgety quickness as he stepped fully into the room and shut the door with an audible thud.

Though when he turned back around, he still looked a little pale around the nose.

Amused, Fuchs sat back down. "Anything you want to get off your chest?"

Felix seemed lost for words, which was probably a first.

"Silence is such an unusual look on you, Felix. I have to say, it rather suits you."

Felix sputtered. Where his face had been pale a moment ago, it now turned bright red. "You– he– that– that was... Holy fucking shit, that was–"

"Robert Lewandowski. Yes. What of it?"

"What of it? _W_ _hat of it_ _?_ You're... you... you..." Felix took a couple of steps into the room but lowered his voice as if he was afraid the sky would come crashing down on top of his head if he said the words out loud. "You're fucking a _Bayern_ player?!"

"I take it you have some objections to that."

" _Are you kidding me?_ " Though Felix looked close to bursting with righteous indignation, he seemed to suddenly remember who he was talking to. "I mean, you are welcome to fuck whoever you want. Your private life is none of my business."

His expression was pained. Fuchs could tell that he was trying to stop himself, but the words kept coming. "But a Bayern player? Really. _A Bayern player_? And this one? He killed us in the home match last Tuesday, and no way was that a penalty. He fell over his own damn feet and everyone except the ref knew it."

"Well then, isn't it a good thing that Hertha will get another chance in the cup final on Saturday."

Felix's eyes went wide.

"Holy shit, is he going to throw the game? Is that why you're... you know." A multitude of emotions flitted across Felix's face, though he eventually returned back to his original outrage. “No way. No. You can't do that. We are going to win against Bayern on our own, or not at all.”

Fuchs sighed. He patted the cushion next to him.

"Felix, sit down here for a moment, will you?"

No sooner had a very reluctant Felix perched himself awkwardly on the edge of the couch than Fuchs threw his arm around him, not quite putting him into a headlock, because why use force when the suggestion of it was enough to get his point across? Besides, Fuchs hired people to do his dirty work. He very rarely had to do it by himself these days.

"You see, Felix. Talk like that... it's just plain rude. And it hurts my feelings."

Obviously nervous, Felix pushed several strands of his long hair behind his ear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense."

Fuchs nodded sagely. "I am glad to hear that. However, should I hear any such slanderous accusations repeated–"

"I won't. I mean, you won't. I wasn't thinking–"

"Exactly, Felix. You _weren't_ thinking. And I need you to think very hard, now. Can you do that for me?" Fuchs dug his fingers into Felix's shoulder.

Felix swallowed heavily but nodded.

"That's good. Now, try to remember. When you walked into my office just now. Did you see anyone besides me in here, or was I alone?"

"You– you were alone?"

"Are you asking or telling me?"

"No. No, you were definitely alone."

"Good. I'm glad we cleared that up."

"Right. No. It's– it's all clear, now. It's... It's just–"

Fuchs squeezed his shoulder. "Just what, Felix?"

"He's a _Bayern player_ ," Felix wailed in a tone of voice that suggested that their very existence was a clear indicator that something was fundamentally wrong with the universe.

Fuchs sighed. This was obviously going to take some time.

 


End file.
